Flattery Gets You Everywhere
by giraffelove92
Summary: How could someone who seemed so cold make her feel so hot? How could a man whose heart didn't beat make her own thump so violently inside of her chest? Elejah. SMUT. (Hints of non-con)


**So I got a review on this that warned me that it should be labelled non-con...I'm not so sure it falls into that category (and I have had personal experience with that category, so I'm certainly not making light of it), but after a threat of being reported to the site I decided to post this warning. It gets a little intense - so if you are really sensitive to heavy smut I suggest you think twice.  
**

**Otherwise, thanks for reading and enjoy!**

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"Elena."

Elena jumped at the sound of her name. Rebekah had been silent for a while now, leaving Elena almost _more _terrified than before. When the Original had been talking to her, albeit with a strong sense of loathing, Elena had at least known where the blonde was and what she was up to. When Rebekah went silent, Elena had grown worried.

"Elena."

It didn't quite register that Elijah was standing in front of her until he said her name again, softly. Almost a caress. She blinked, jolted out of her reverie. She had no idea how long she had been underground, trapped in the vampire-safe chamber that held the Mikkaelson family coffins.

She stood, brushing off her jeans. Clearing her throat nervously, she spoke. "So?" She willed her voice to be strong, but heard it tremble anyway. She couldn't even manage a one-syllable word without turning into a quivering mess. What was it about the eldest remaining Original that got her so worked up?

He was too damned calm, standing there across the threshold. They both knew he couldn't cross it if he tried, but his stance would make anyone believe that he was exactly where he wanted to be. She wondered how he pulled that off with such grace. His handsome, chiseled face was unreadable. Even though she knew he was upset with her, he neglected to show it. His eyes though – those liquid brown orbs held such emotion. She thought, for a moment, that she could see sorrow and disappointment among the spectrum, and shame welled up in her heart and tore through her conscience. She had to look away, focusing instead on a muscle in his cheek that trembled with tension.

He looked almost…tired, the thin sliver of moonlight that crept through the small crack in the ceiling casting the shadows of his face into stark relief, the hard plains of his jaw looking especially harsh; and yet the contrast did nothing to take away from his beauty. Years of experience weighed heavily on his broad and undeniably solid shoulders. She had drooled over those shoulders from their first meeting, however unpleasant it had been, and now was no exception. She had never met a man who looked just as good from the back as he did from the front; the way his impeccably tailored suit jacket stretched across his shoulder blades was unrivaled by any man on the planet, she was sure.

"So." He waited a beat. "You were going to let us all be killed." His hands were in his pockets, his body seemingly relaxed, but his eyes smoldered. His voice was deathly calm, and almost low enough to be a whisper. "Tell me, Elena – were you positively gleeful when I drank from my poisoned glass, or were you merely indifferent to the thought of my impending perish at the hands of my mother?"

She sucked in a lungful of air and nearly choked. "Elijah, please," she blurted, "Please, try to understand. Our backs were up against the wall – "

She cowered when his arm came up abruptly and his hand came crashing down onto the wall of the cave tunnel. Rubble rained down from the ceiling at the force of the impact. He stood motionless, in the same position as before, only his hands were out of his pockets and clenched into fists at his sides. A muscle in his jaw strained and ticked. Once. Tic. Twice. Tic. Three times.

All of a sudden he was directly in front of her; suddenly and shamefully, her lips itched to kiss the Adam's apple only inches from her face. She flushed. He was much bigger up close than he looked when she saw him at arms' length. How could someone who seemed so cold make her feel so hot? How could someone whose heart didn't beat make her own thump so violently inside of her chest?

"The barrier seems to have been removed." The breath was knocked out of her as she was rushed against the wall of the cave. Elena could feel the chill of the stone through her clothes. One of his hands went to the wall next to her head, while the other came up to press gently but firmly against her throat. She gasped as her windpipe slowly closed. Primal fear mingled with thrilling anticipation, surprising and embarrassing her. "If you thought your back was against the wall before," Elijah growled, "welcome to reality."

Elena gulped in air, fighting to breathe, her mouth suddenly dry. She felt a flush travel from her chest to her cheeks and hoped, in the moonlit, candle lit chamber, that he hadn't seen it. She was deluding herself, of course – she could hear her own heartbeat thundering in her ears. With his keen vampire senses, surely he heard it too.

"You won't kill me." This time, her voice was less shaky. She forced herself to look him in the eye. Clear liquid brown orbs met unfathomably dark smoky depths. His gaze made her burn. Even in the cool fall air she felt like she was wearing too many clothes. The thought had her blushing even more. When he tilted his head and smirked, she knew he felt it too. Mortification seized her, even as arousal made her legs shake like jelly. "I'm your leverage."

The handsome Original brought his massive hand from her neck up to her face, stroking over her smooth cheek and down to the sensitive skin below her ear. Moving his hand underneath her silky waterfall of hair, he gripped the nape of her neck softly. Even in anger he was maddeningly gentle with her.

When he spoke his voice was husky with want. "Of course not," he said, softly and matter-of-factly. "Indeed. You are my bargaining chip, and I will hold onto you for as long as it takes." His eyes, if possible, darkened. "Besides, it would be positively sinful to destroy such a beautiful purity of soul as yours. Although in light of your recent actions, your charitable nature has withered a bit as of late. It makes me wonder what other…sins…you may be capable of." There was a tenderness to it that made her relax into his touch, and yet there was an underlying intensity that made her already-shallow breath hitch. His raised eyebrow and slow toothy grin did not help, either. She noticed that his canines were slightly longer than the rest of his teeth, even without his fangs extended. She had an overwhelming urge to test their sharpness with her tongue.

"You'd be surprised."

As soon as the words slipped from her mouth she wished she could take them back.

Slowly but surely, her sanity was slipping away.

Her insinuation might as well been a brazen challenge. His eyes lit up with a newfound heat; and did she detect a glimmer of hope? His eyes on hers the whole time, he moved in until his lips nearly touched hers. She told herself that she didn't pull away simply because of his hand putting pressure on her neck, but the lie sat plainly in the forefront of her mind, teasing her. She swore she heard her brain cackling at her with gleeful irony when her face, seemingly of its own accord, tipped up and her lips parted.

Her only warning was his breath whooshing out onto her cheek before he closed the distance and pressed his lips against hers. In an embarrassingly short amount of time her eyes were closed and her lips were open under his, moving against his with an unrestrained passion she never knew she possessed. When she groaned and nipped at his lips, his hands came up to cup her face and he caught her bottom lip between his teeth before plunging his tongue inside her mouth.

Feeling greedier by the second, she fisted the lapels of his impeccably tailored blazer and pressed her slim body against his solid frame, rolling her hips against his. He growled in response, pushing her firmly against the stone wall at her back; then he hooked one leg over his elbow, grinding his prominent hardness against her heated core, and she was lost.

"Elijah," she whispered, interrupting their kiss, murmuring against his lips. "Elijah. What are we doing?"

He paused in his ministrations, pulling his head back so he could look her in the eye. His hand traveled down to her neck, pausing to press his thumb against where the blood pounded through her artery. Her blood sang to him, calling him to latch on to her throat and suck her dry. But his self-control was better than that. It should be, after a thousand years of vampirism.

When he responded his voice was gravelly. "Consider this," he said, stroking across her collarbone and down to skim against the sides of her breasts to rest on her waist, "your punishment."

She gasped as his mouth came back down to the skin of her neck, his teeth nibbling and his tongue soothing. Her hands went to his hair, running her fingers behind his ears and toying with the soft hair at the base of his neck. He shuddered in response and she felt a thrill of power run up her spine. The things he was doing with his mouth, now laving at her collarbone, made her want to weep with pleasure. It was only going to get worse, she knew. She braced herself.

"This doesn't feel very much like punishment," she managed to pant between ragged breaths.

Elijah pulled back to look at her; she withered under the intensity of his stare. His mouth twisted into a cruel smirk. Her heart leapt in fear; she suddenly realized how easy it would be for him to hurt her. He wouldn't kill her, but that didn't mean he couldn't make her suffer.

"Ah, sweet Elena," he murmured sensually, tucking her hair behind her ear with one hand while the other continued to hold her leg in the crook of his elbow. "There is a fine line between pleasure and pain. I intend to introduce you to it."

His smile was positively sinful.

Elena didn't know if she was afraid or excited. The lines were starting to blur.

Before she could process another thought, his lips were upon hers and her shirt was torn down the middle and lay in tatters on the ground. Nipping her lower lip with his teeth and flicking her tongue with his, he wasted no time in bringing one hand around her back to expertly unclasp her bra. She tried not to think about the centuries of experience he had in this particular field, the ease with which he had undressed her, the expertise of his hands and mouth against her skin – it only served to stimulate her already vivid imagination, causing liquid heat to gather in her womb and trickle down between her legs.

She ground against him, attempting to relieve the ache plaguing the apex of her thighs. She inhaled sharply at the contact; the bulge pressing against her center was…more…than she was used to. Not that she was surprised. Elijah had such a commanding presence, such a quiet arrogance, that she knew upon looking at him that he was _all man. _She didn't doubt that his equipment was state-of-the-art, the way it prodded relentlessly against her center. She bit his lip and moaned into his mouth when he ground back into her, further bending her knee and pulling it up to wrap around his hips.

He pulled away from her mouth, sliding his lips down across her collarbone to lick at the smooth skin in between her breasts, now bared to his dark gaze, her nipples raised and ready for whatever lavish attention his tongue and fingers had to offer. Palming her left breast with his free hand and thumbing her hard nipple, he dragged his mouth over to claim the other, holding her gaze all the while. She felt her head spin and her stomach drop – if he hadn't been holding her leg and pressing her body firmly into the cave wall, she was positive she would have sunk to her knees, dizzy. She inhaled sharply when he scraped her nipple with his thumbnail; that same breath came out in a loud gasp when his tongue flicked over her other nipple before he pulled it into his mouth to roll it between his lips and teeth. Her hands – which had been alternately pressed to the wall behind her and clinging to his jacket – fisted in his hair, pulling his head closer to her chest.

"Elijah," she breathed, eyes closed. "Elijah." She chanted his name as she arched her back, pushing her breasts further into his hand and mouth. It was music to his ears; the sweetest music he had ever heard. He rewarded her by switching his hand and mouth, nipping at her left nipple and kneading her right breast. He would make sure no part of her body was left wanting for attention. Thrusting once again against her core, he relished in her cry, watching as her back arched further and her head clunked against the wall. He smirked in triumph.

He would make her scream.

Letting her leg go, Elijah moved his head back up to slam his lips against her own, his kiss rough almost to the point of it being painful…but she didn't care.

She didn't ever want him to stop.

His hands travelled from where they cupped her breasts down to her hips, tracing circles over her hipbones with his thumbs before moving to flick open the button of her jeans. The simple caress had her trembling, wanting his hands all over her body…but she tried to be patient, knowing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he would worship her body so thoroughly that she wouldn't be left wanting.

His words echoed in her head: _There is a fine line between pleasure and pain. _ Her heart pounded inside of her chest; though from fear or anticipation, she couldn't tell. Sex with Stefan had been wonderful, and he always left her satisfied, but he had never taken her like she secretly craved – with the hunger and power that Elijah was showing her now. He had never made her body hum as it did now – never caused her nerve endings to jump as if shocked as liquid fire pooled between her legs. Never had she felt so…consumed; so _ravished._

Whatever fear of the pain Elijah had in store for her fell away when he knelt in front of her. She had been so lost in her thoughts and pleasure that she hadn't noticed him slide her jeans, along with her soaked underwear, down her long legs until his tongue dipped into her navel. With vampire speed he whipped off her shoes and socks, throwing them across the cave, before pulling her pants and panties the rest of the way off.

When his tongue travelled down to brush against her clit, she cried out, her hands coming to rest on his head to steady herself. He grabbed one of her ankles and brought her foot to rest on one broad shoulder, shifting her other leg so that she stood wide open before him, ready for the taking. She flushed. He smirked, locking his gaze with hers, before plunging his index finger into her tight sheath.

"You're so wet for me, Elena," he breathed against her center, twisting his hand as he pulled his finger out of her, her juices running down his wrist. "So tight. I can't wait to feel your pussy around my cock."

The filthy words made her blush and let out a strangled moan, gyrating her hips against his hand. He grinned shamelessly. This was going to be the most fun he'd had in ages.

For the first time in a long time, Elijah had to take a deep breath, his body shuddering at how tight and soaking wet she was for him. She smelled like heaven. Unable to resist, he angled his head to swipe his tongue along her clit, humming at her taste. She keened, her fingers lodged firmly in his hair. He reveled in the sensation of her fingernails scraping gently against his scalp. Pulling his finger from her dripping core, he worked two back in slowly before beginning to thrust languidly in and out, simultaneously scraping his teeth across her clit before he started to work it with his tongue and lips.

She was whining now, a low-pitched keen at the back of her throat, her breath hitching each time his long, broad fingers pushed their way into her wetness. When he picked up the pace with his fingers and began working her clit in earnest, swiping his tongue across the bundle of nerves with in-human speed, her moans grew louder.

"Elijah, please," she panted, her fingers stroking his neck. An involuntary shudder ran through his body.

Since when did he lose control so easily?

He paused in his ministrations. She groaned in frustration, attempting to grind against his hand and mouth.

"Please what, Elena?" The words were like honey dripping from his mouth. She thought, if he were so inclined, that he could eventually make her come with words alone.

"Please," she ground out, "please, _fuck me."_

His control almost snapped at her filthy words. Almost.

He told himself that he had lasted through worse temptations than this. Squeezing her thigh in his free hand, he scissored his fingers inside of her before curling them, just so, to hit the spot she craved most.

"Gah!" she yelled, throwing her head back. "Elijah! _Please!"_

She was begging him. He marveled at how responsive she was to his touches. He hummed in triumph, smiling as he nosed her clit, pressing the tips of his fingers more firmly against the soft, sensitive spot on her inner wall.

"All in good time, Elena." He licked her clit. "You'll have to be patient." Lick. _"I want to make you suffer first."_ Two licks. She trembled, her legs beginning to shake. He smiled in triumph. "But since you asked so nicely…"

Without warning he renewed his efforts, plunging his two fingers in her pussy as deep and fast as they would go. Latching his lips over her clit, he sucked at the bundle of nerves until she came apart with a cry, exploding into his mouth.

Her scream echoed off the walls of the cave, her body quaking violently as she gushed into his mouth, his tongue lapping up her juices greedily. Her vision was hazy and her heart pounded in her ears, but she vaguely noticed him stand, wiping his mouth with the back of his clean hand.

Before Elijah could even comprehend was she was doing, she had grabbed his soiled hand and brought it to her mouth, moaning as she sucked and twirled her tongue around his digits, her eyes locked on his.

This time, his control snapped. Claiming her lips in a bruising kiss, he allowed her to slide his jacket from his shoulders and fumble with his shirt buttons while he toed off his shoes, tugged at his belt and unbuttoned his pants, pulling them and his boxer-briefs down past his hips. He hissed as soon as his erection sprang free from its confines; eight inches of thick, hard length stood proudly at attention, pointing resolutely at Elena's quivering chin. He smirked as her hands stilled, her wide eyes fixed on the impressive organ between his legs, unable to look away. As if she was in a trance, she once again began to slowly undo the buttons of his shirt, never taking her eyes away from his proudly jutting cock. He could smell the fresh wave of arousal that crashed over her, her creamy essence once again leaking down to coat the inside of her thighs. The sight was tantalizing, enough to have him breathing heavily through his nose, her sweet scent clouding his senses.

His patience wearing thin (ironic, since his teasing statement to her earlier about being patient), he ripped his shirt open, buttons pinging against the walls and rolling on the ground. He found that he didn't much care; all he wanted was to be inside of this beautiful young woman, fucking her into oblivion, making her come apart around his cock as she milked him to completion. He took a deep breath to calm himself, shucking the remainder of his shirt and stepping back, taking her in.

Elena couldn't bring herself to be self-conscious as he stared at her body, drinking her in; she was too busy appraising him. With hooded eyes she allowed her heated gaze to skim over his body, from his broad, tense shoulders to his muscled chest, down to his taut, defined abdominals and the arrogant cant of his hips, his massive, rock-hard dick taking center stage.

"Like what you see?" he asked cockily, his eyes boring into hers.

"Do you?" she shot back, eyebrows raised, her hands resting on her hips. She wasn't sure where this confidence was coming from, but she felt its power surge through her, her smirk strangely reminiscent of his.

His quick grin was full of mischief, and before she knew what hit her, she was spinning, her face and breasts pressed firmly against the cold wood of one of the coffins that remained in the cavern. She gasped loudly when she felt his fingers run down her slit, spreading her juices, preparing her for what she was sure would come next.

She shivered in anticipation. Part of her felt indignant that she was about to be taken from behind, against a coffin no less, in a cave like some animal; the other part, the _bigger_ part, was thrilled. Sighing heavily, she braced her hands against the coffin, pushing her lower body back completely so only her arms, chest and head remained braced against the smooth wood on the lid of the coffin, her knees pressed against the side and her tight ass high in the air, giving him easy access. Tossing her hair to the side, she looked back at him, her eyes hot. She knew how wanton she must have looked just then; she smiled, feeling dirtier, and sexier, than ever before. She felt _powerful._

That sense of power wavered when he spoke, rumbling deep in his chest. His voice was like dark chocolate and bourbon and everything sinful.

"I'm going to fuck you so long and so hard," he said slowly, menacingly, "that you won't be able to walk for a week. I'm going to ruin you for every other man that might come along," he warned, eyes narrowed, "and you'll never be able to fuck any one else ever again."

She glared at him. "So do it already," she ground out, her teeth clenching impatiently. "I _want_ to feel the pain with the pleasure. I _want _you to ruin me for any other man. I _want _you so deep inside me, pounding into me so fast and so _hard_ that I won't be able to move, much less walk, for a week. Please, Elijah," she begged in a breathy voice, feeling exceptionally dirty. "I want to feel your cock inside of me; I want my pussy to clench around you. I want to fly apart at your hands. I want _you."_

She saw his eyes darken even further, until they were black as coal, and before she even realized what was happening the head of his penis slid along her slit before he grabbed her hips and slammed inside of her.

She hiccupped at the intrusion, unable to breathe. Elijah stilled inside of her. He brought his hand to the nape of her neck and trailed his fingers along her spine, cupping her ass with his wide palm and kneading it with his calloused fingers. Moving it over so he could once again grasp her hips with both hands, he withdrew from her almost completely, hissing at the sensation of her walls tightening around his length, reluctant to let him go.

That was okay. He wouldn't keep her waiting long.

Tightening his grip so that he knew she would have bruises later, he roughly shoved back into her tight heat, drawing a moan. Setting a brutal pace (at least by human standards; he didn't want to break her), he began to pound into her, pulling her hips back to meet him halfway. He spread her ass cheeks with his thumb, moaning as he watched his shaft disappear into her tight, dripping cunt. He could truly say that in a thousand years he had never seen anything as erotic as Elena Gilbert bent over while his cock hammered into her from behind. She fit him perfectly; her pussy clenched around him like a glove made only for him.

_Only for him._ The thought pleased him.

Elena was steeped in pleasure – no one had even come _close_ to making her feel this way. _No one._ His impressive cock drove into her at a pace that had her panting and moaning his name again and again (when she was able to breathe), her hands clutching at the coffin her upper body rested upon. When he pushed her shoulders farther down against the wood and pulled her hips to a higher angle, allowing him to go deeper, the tip of his cock hit _that spot_ – and she jerked and screamed, stars exploding behind her eyes.

"_Elijah!"_

He groaned behind her, quickening his pace, sensing her impending orgasm. When she looked back at him, her eyes glazed, and he felt her walls start to flutter around his cock, he slipped his hand around her to press firmly against her clit with two fingers, moving them in quick circles over her sensitive nub.

"FUCK!" The lewd expletive coming from between Elena's sweet lips as she came around his cock made him groan and grin in triumph. He slowed down his thrusts when her head fell forward to thunk against the coffin, sensing her sensitivity after her orgasm. Her body was quaking violently, her pussy still spasming around him. He so badly wanted to release his seed inside of her, allowing himself the pleasure of completion; he had half a mind to do just that and let her rest and recover before continuing.

_Nah._ He chuckled. He felt the beast within him rise up, grumbling, demanding that he take her again and again and again, even if she begged him to stop. That was his goal, was it not? To have her screaming, caught between pleasure and pain as he fucked her into oblivion? Yes. He couldn't allow himself to go soft. She was his for the taking, her body ripe for the plunder. He would tease and torture her until she was limp in his arms, and then return her to the Salvatore brothers covered in his essence, reeking of his scent. Even as he thought about it, he made plans to see her again, and take her on every surface of her house that could possibly be fucked on.

Pulling out of her and gently flipping her over so that she lay on her back lengthwise on the coffin, he paused to look at her, stroking his cock idly. His free hand made a path from her flushed cheek down her neck to her breast; when he tweaked her nipple and rolled it between his fingers, she squealed in surprise.

Her eyes were still hazy but were wide with awareness. "Elijah, you can't possibly - "

She was cut off when he yanked her body down to the edge of the coffin and slid back into her, more gently this time but no less deep. His strong hands spread her legs wide, wrapping them around his waist as he lent forward to kiss her, softly, one hand moving from her firm thigh to cradle the back of her head.

Though her body was still over-stimulated and hypersensitive, Elena was in heaven. His cock slid in and out of her at a steady, leisurely pace, and when his hand tangled in her hair and his lips touched hers she responded in kind, boldly stroking his tongue across his, running her fingers over his temples and down to his neck, where she held on for dear life as he rode her. She felt her breath getting shallower as he expertly worked her body back up to climax within minutes, never slowing down, never speeding up. Needing him to move faster and go deeper, despite the ache in her womb, she wriggled her hips against his and brought her hands down to thumb his nipples.

He pulled out of her and stayed there, his tip resting against her entrance, which glistened enticingly with her sweet juices. She groaned in frustration, rolling her hips up against his.

Amused, he brought a large hand to her stomach, keeping her hips pinned to the coffin. Teasingly, just to piss her off, he let his thumb "accidentally" graze her clit, causing her to gasp and glare at him.

"Elijah." Her hands slid down to grab his ass, attempting to pull him back to her. Oh how he desperately wanted to sheath himself inside her again; how he longed to pound relentlessly into her tight, wet heat and lose himself in her. But not yet.

"Yes, sweet Elena?" he replied silkily, his hand grazing the side of her breast before cupping it in his palm and leaning forward to suck the other into his hot mouth, rolling the pebbled nipple against his teeth. "Is there something you need?" Trying not to grin smugly, he rolled his hips against hers before pulling back, his cock barely brushing her wetness. She groaned; he hid a smirk of triumph between her breasts, lapping at the skin with his tongue. The salty taste of her sweat, combined with the sound of her rapidly beating heart made his fangs start to extend and his eyes turn red with bloodlust.

He pushed it down, his face returning to normal. Not yet. But soon.

"Please, Elijah, I need you inside of me again," she panted, nearly in tears from frustration. The sight pleased him. "I need to…I need you to let me come."

Maddeningly slowly, he inched his cock, now rock-solid and straining with his need for release – not that he would give in that easily, of course; he wasn't a teenage boy, after all – back into her dripping sheath. Her juices were now spread messily across their thighs and abdomens. He'd never been with a woman who was so ready for him – so slick – that he became covered in her essence. It was strangely thrilling, how much she wanted him; he had never expected this sort of wanton, enthusiastic reaction out of her.

Elena cursed in frustration, letting Elijah know exactly how displeased she was with his slow pace. Before she could plead with him to speed up he stood up straight between her thighs, lifted her legs over his massive shoulders, and, bracing her body with his hands wrapped around the front of her thighs, slammed back into her without abandon.

She screamed out as the head of his cock – an appendage that she was beginning to believe was the best thing that had ever happened to her – touched her womb. He did not pause to let her adjust to this new position, just started thrusting into her at a fast and bruising pace.

"Elijah…" she moaned, her head falling back as her hands wrapped around his forearms. "This position…oh, god. I never thought…" She trailed off, panting, her large, expressive eyes flicking back and forth between his dark orbs and staring, entranced, at where their bodies joined.

"Never thought what, Elena?" he replied, eyebrows raised, his voice breathier and more strained than it should have been. "Never thought I could get this deep?" He gave a particularly hard thrust to emphasize his words, wanting her to feel every inch of him.

Wanting her to be his.

She inhaled sharply. Holding her slim ankles in his hands, he pulled her legs farther apart, pulling her lower body up off the coffin, her pussy open and glistening before him. Leaning his torso back slightly, he pistoned his hips into her at vampire speed, hammering her cunt with his dick. Resting one of her ankles back on his shoulder and bringing his hand down to her clit, he began rubbing it rapidly with his fingers.

Elena came with a shout, her inner walls squeezing down on him with such force he was afraid he would meet his release and spill his seed into her warm, pliant body. She screamed in earnest this time, not even coherent enough to speak his name. Her body literally felt like it was on fire, each nerve ending exploding and colors flashing behind her eyes. She vaguely felt her legs clamp down on his neck as he let go of her legs to palm her breasts.

"You're mine, Elena," he growled, staring her in the eye. "And _only_ mine."

His possessive words and the continuing movement of his cock and his fingers against her clit – Christ, would he ever stop? – had her coming again, her pussy clenching down around him. She closed her eyes and let her fourth orgasm wash over her, her legs shaking like jelly and her small hands grasping desperately at any of his skin she could find: his chest, his shoulders, his hips, his arms, she didn't care.

Her eyes closed of their own volition despite her efforts to keep them open, and she slipped into unconsciousness.

00000000000

Elena was jolted awake by a painful pressure in her lower abdomen and the unpleasant sensation of a cold, rocky wall scratching her back. Her eyes shot open and were instantly met with a dark, smoldering gaze.

Elijah.

"Elijah, what -"

Her voice died on her lips, her mouth forming a perfect "o", her eyes wide as saucers. She realized what the pressure in her womb was.

Her legs around his waist, Elijah was buried to the hilt inside of her; the juices from her previous orgasms lubricated his penis, allowing him to shove himself deep inside of her cunt. Her back arched off the wall when he pulled out completely and slammed back into her, hitting her g-spot – which he did again and again and again, until she felt tears leak out of her eyes to run down her face.

"Don't pass out on me again, Elena." Thrust. "You won't like the consequences." Thrust.

How could something so bad – so painful – feel so good? So _right?_

She whimpered in pain as he gave another particularly hard thrust, bumping her clit with his pubic bone. She gasped. She was surprised when one of his hands came up to brush the tears from her cheek, his impossibly soft lips kissing the rest of them away. His gentleness was a stark contrast to the demanding pace he set with his hips and the way his hand squeezed her bottom, holding her up between him and the wall. When his lips met hers, everything faded away.

He eventually pulled his head back, running his lips over her forehead, cheeks and eyes, ghosting them over her collarbone and laving at the sensitive spot just below her ear. She began moaning in earnest as the speed of his thrusts turned brutal, his hips battering her into the wall. The erotic sound of his skin slapping against hers caused another flow of liquid to come from her womb, coating his manhood and allowing him easier access. His pace increased even more, his deliciously thick cock penetrating her with ease and hitting her deeper and deeper with each plunge. God, he was so _big;_ she had never felt fuller or more complete.

She would never get enough.

"You're mine, Elena," he said roughly, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Do you understand that?"

"Y-yes," she responded, her hands clutching at his shoulders, her fingernails digging into the smooth skin there. "I'm yours," she admitted, "but please, Elijah, you have to stop. I need a minute. I cant -"

He cut her off with a harsh kiss, his tongue pushing into her mouth. He suddenly changed his movements, _grinding _into her core in a circular motion, shoving his length as deep as it could go. He pulled his head back and stared at the column of her neck, brushing her hair back with his calloused fingers, exposing her pulsing artery to him. He felt his visage go dark, his fangs protruding, and couldn't stop himself.

When she came for the fifth time, shouting his name, he bit her. Sinking his fangs into her neck he let her blood roll over his tongue, teasing his taste buds, and run down his throat. He gulped it down in mouthfuls – slowing down when he remembered how fragile she actually was – and reveled in the taste. Why had he waited so long to do this? He should have fed from her the day they first met – and every day since. The taste and smell of her blood invaded his keen senses. His hands tightened on her buttocks and he pressed himself further into her aching core, finally releasing his seed inside her warmth. He groaned into her neck at his release, and she whimpered, clutching his head. He wasn't a novice; by now he had learned how to limit the pain inflicted when he fed on someone – how to even make it pleasurable. After her initial stiffening when his fangs pierced her neck she hadn't seemed to mind, if the way her hands had run through his hair was anything to go by.

When he felt her heartbeat slow down dramatically he pulled away, laving at the wounds on her neck until they started to clot. A single rivulet of blood had escaped and ran down her neck to gather in the dip of her collarbone. And what a beautiful collarbone it was. _His _collarbone.

Everything she was – _his. _ She belonged to him now; as much as his logical mind knew that she shouldn't. Even as he _knew_ she would never accept his possession of her, hope rose annoyingly in his chest. Irritated, he shoved it roughly back down to simmer low in his stomach.

Hope. That was something he hadn't felt in a long time; it felt foreign to him.

Feeling sated (for the moment, but not for long, he knew; he wasn't done with her, not by a long shot), he lowered himself to his knees, her legs still wrapped around his waist. His penis still pulsed inside of her with the aftermath of his intense orgasm. He hadn't come so forcefully in a long time – sex with Elena, he'd discovered, was a unique experience unto itself. She was like a drug. Running his nose up her neck he inhaled, breathing in her delectable scent.

He knew he would never get enough of her. He would never be able to stop. The thought terrified him. He could not afford to form an attachment to the young human. It would be dangerous for both of them. He needed to remain neutral.

Even as he thought it, he knew it was too late.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, his length still lodged securely inside of her. Her forehead rested comfortably against his shoulder and her hands found their way around his neck, her palms cool against his hot skin as her soft breasts pressed against his pectorals. Her heart still pounded violently inside of her chest and she was still trying to catch her breath, coming down from the high her orgasm had given her. He pressed his face against her hair, breathing her in, his arms wrapped strongly around her waist. His fingers, of their own accord, lazily traced abstract patterns on the smooth expanse of her back.

Eventually her head came up so that she could look into his eyes. For once her eyes, usually so expressive, were unreadable. His dark gaze held hers unflinchingly; neither of them looked away.

Elijah expected her to cry, scream, rage at him for doing this to her – and making her _like_ it. For the first time in a _very_ long time he was flabbergasted when her hands came up to cup his face. In shock, unable to move, he watched as her eyes closed and she leaned forward, pressing her lips against his in a ghost of a kiss. They lingered there for a moment, her thumbs stroking his cheeks, before she pulled away and let her eyes slowly open. Her gaze was clear and the candlelight reflected off of them in such a way that they looked almost amber. The emotion was back in her stare, her kind eyes as expressive as they usually were.

He wasn't expecting what he saw there. Not love, but something else, something deeper and more complicated than that: respect mixed with awe mixed with genuine, profound affection. It succeeded in taking his breath away, and, in spite of years of practice schooling his face into an emotionless mask, his features changed, his jaw relaxing and his eyes softening.

Elena watched his usually impeccable façade crack. The expression on his face was so different from the three emotions she had ever seen him show before: indifference, amusement, and irritation. Tonight she had seen two more: anger and lust. But this…this scared her. She had never been as afraid in his presence as she was in this moment, with him staring deep into her eyes, his lips parted and his gaze full of wonder. Her hands never moved from his face, relishing the sensation of his facial muscles relaxing under her fingers.

No words were spoken. They weren't needed. Things had changed between them, their lives shifting drastically in a direction that neither of them had expected – but that both had secretly hoped for in their traitorous subconscious.

It was when his lips moved across hers, his eyes open all the while, that she noticed his gaze darken. She swallowed, and shifted her hips, and, as she'd suspected, the organ between his legs hardened, still buried deep inside her. Her breath hitched and she let out a moan, her eyes closing. One arm remained wrapped around her waist and lower back and the other moved up to the back of her neck. He squeezed and her eyes shot open, the pain in her neck going from a dull ache to a sharp pang. She winced at the sting, but a wave of pleasure moved straight from her bloody throat to her core, causing her sheath to involuntarily tighten around his length. His head fell back and his eyes closed, and the groan that originated deep in his chest made her press her chest more firmly against his, her nipples hardening and pushing into his pecs. His hands came to rest high on her waist, his thumbs grazing the sides of her breasts, and he gently lifted her up, his now completely erect shaft sliding wetly out of her, before pulling her back down gently, once again seated deeply inside of her, buried to the hilt in her impossibly wet pussy.

Taking the hint, she braced her feet on the ground to either side of his hips, pushing herself up before lowering herself, as slowly and gingerly as possible, back down onto his cock. She winced; her pussy closed around his dick, taking him inside her core as her arousal dripped down between her legs, but her womb ached in protest, and her over-sensitized clit burned at the contact with his abdomen.

"Elijah," she whispered breathily, lifting her hips up and pausing halfway, not quite willing to let him go completely, "I'm not sure that I can do this again. My body- "

For what seemed like the thousandth time that night, he cut her off, bracing his feet on the ground, his knees slightly bent, before rolling his hips up into hers with just enough force to have her crying out.

"Go up again," he whispered, pulling her hips up so slowly that the slick friction of his penis sliding out of her center made her eyes water. He wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, staring severely into their bottomless brown depths. She was unable to look away. The passion in his eyes made her breath hitch; the sheer intensity of this man was terrifying – and _extremely _sexy. How had she managed to make him want her so badly? How had an ordinary, small-town doppelganger seduced him so completely, unleashing his deeply buried passion and causing his libido to rage out of control? It was obvious to her that his self-restraint faded when he was in her presence; especially now, when their naked bodies sat tangled upon the dirt floor of the cave. "I want to feel you lose control."

He drew her down again on top of him, lifting his hips up a fraction to meet her as her wet heat enveloped him. He set a slow and leisurely pace, letting her to adjust to the intrusion, languidly pulling her down to sheath himself within her pliant body, allowing her to recover from the abuse he had inflicted upon her earlier. He hid a smile in her shoulder when her eyes fluttered closed and her hands clutched his shoulders, using the leverage to propel herself up and down on his cock.

She had caved, giving into the pleasure; accepting the pain. He had won. He wanted to crow in triumph, delighted at his conquest, but merely sighed contently and reveled in the incredible young woman that sat astride his thighs.

When he felt her body tense, wanting more, he leaned back to lie on the floor, ignoring the cold stone pressing into his skin and the irritation of sand against his back. Pulling his knees up he steadied her with his hands at her waist, bending her knees down to rest on the floor beside him and gently nudging her so that her back rested comfortably against his thighs. Throwing her head back so that her hair tickled his shins, she began to ride him; her pace slightly faster than it had been before. He was surprised how much he enjoyed her moving above him – he was so used to fast and hard sex, to _fucking_ other vampires that he forgot what it was like to make love to someone at a human pace.

He rested his hands at her hips but let her control the movement and the speed. He yearned to move his hips up into her, but forced himself to be patient, instead letting himself enjoy the sight of her. He found himself impressed with her movement; despite her lack of experience her hips rolled expertly against his, the lines of her body bending sensuously, showing her figure to him in a flattering position.

She truly was a work of art, as Katerina and Tatia had been, but somehow possessed more beauty than both of her predecessors combined. It was like the lines of her body had been painted in brushstrokes with the utmost care, the shadows created by the moonlight and flickering candlelight highlighting the lean muscle underneath her impossibly soft skin; the artist that had painted her (he was beginning to rethink the existence of God, so great was her beauty) had used a shade between olive and gold, the warmth of it contrasting starkly against his paler skin tone. Her hair flowed around her face as she tilted it forward to look at him, the golden streaks in the long chocolate tresses apparent in the light. The set of her face differed greatly from those of her ancestors: it was softer, rounder, the skin around her mouth and jaw more relaxed. The worried furrow that was often present between her eyebrows was gone now, the skin smooth and taut across her forehead.

Her eyes, though, were what truly set her apart – from not only her doppelgangers but from every other being he had met. Her liquid brown orbs were unfathomably deep, the dark brown irises scattered with tawny flecks throughout. The kindness in them, emphasized by the soft set of the skin around her eyes and brows, was like to that which he'd never seen before. There was a certain forgiveness there, a boundless and inexhaustible charity, an absolute, _infinite_ grace that no normal human being should have possessed. There wasn't a hint of selfishness in her. Instead, she had been bestowed with a deep and unusual wisdom far beyond her years and a nobility seldom achieved by even the most principled of beings. Her sense of honor knew no bounds; the goodness in her eyes called to him, to his better part, and he was unable to look away.

Elena gazed into Elijah's dark brown eyes, almost black with desire. Desire for _her._ Strangely enough she felt no insecurity as she always had with Stefan – as Elijah stared back at her, watching her intently as his hands perused her body, she knew, without a doubt, that he was looking only at her; _seeing her, _not either of her doppelganger predecessors. She knew that Stefan had struggled not to see Katherine when he was with her, even though she knew he didn't mean to. She never felt that it was just the two of them – that it was all three of them – Stefan, Katherine and she – in bed together. She realized now, as she blushed slowly at the way Elijah was looking at her, that it had never been fair to her. She had been deluding herself.

His heated gaze alone, never leaving her eyes – not even to blink – caused another wave of arousal to crash through her body, her core becoming even slicker with her juices. He inhaled, relishing in her scent, and it made her blush, knowing exactly what he was doing, breathing in her scent as if she were a hot plate of delicious aromatic food. The thought pleased her, causing her spine to tingle pleasantly, and she moved her hips faster over his, placing her hands firmly on his chest to stabilize herself, aiding in her movement.

He dropped his knees down slightly and she leaned back, taking advantage of his position, her hands moving to rest behind her on his thighs; her back arched, thrusting her high, pert breasts towards him, and he couldn't resist bringing his hands up to cup them. They fit perfectly into the palms of his broad hands, and he squeezed her nipples in between his pointer and middle fingers, kneading the supple, soft flesh of her breasts.

She moaned in response to his ministrations, a low-pitched keen that sent a jolt of desire straight to his straining cock. Once again he resisted the urge to thrust up into her. Rarely (meaning _never_) did he let a woman take control; his prevailing dominant side, the animal within him, did not allow it. With Elena it was exhilarating.

Elena. His Elena.

He was caught off guard when she bucked her hips against his, squeezing his shaft inside her wet heat, and began rocking against him, canting her hips so that her sensitive clit hit his pubic bone. They groaned simultaneously and he clutched at her hips desperately, the movement making his eyes close of their own accord and his head fall back against the ground. When he opened them again to look at her, she was staring at him. The smirk that twisted upon her face was uncharacteristic, but looked right on her face somehow. Her eyes bore into his as her hips circled, the movement causing his hips to jerk and a hiss to escape from between his teeth in pleasure, and her spreading smile was absolutely sinful.

He liked to think he was rubbing off on her.

He narrowed his eyes. The time had come for him to retake control of the situation. He squeezed her breasts one more time, then skimmed down her sides to rub gentle circles on her hipbones before grasping her wide hips in his large hands. His thumbs pressing into the tops of her thighs, he stilled her movements; then, an evil smirk her only warning, he lifted her body up high and slammed his impossibly hard cock deeper into her from below. She cried out in pleasure – or pain, or _both_, he didn't know – and he began to thrust, his long, thick penis plunging deep into her sweet, tight cunt. The feeling of her pussy clenching around him caused him to groan.

He had started out at a reasonable pace, generously allowing her to adjust to his depth – since when had he become so soft, so gentle? He growled at the thought, displeased with himself – but as she mewled above him, her eyes wide and dark with arousal, he lost composure. Bringing his hands to her thighs he spread her legs wide and pounded into her, keeping her hips steady. Once again he brought his knees up and used the better leverage to hit her harder and deeper than before. She held herself up above him with her hands on his stomach, knowing the weight of her body wouldn't affect him (the perks of being a super strong vampire), keeping her knees spread wide, parted for easy access.

He couldn't keep his eyes off of where they joined, his impressive length disappearing rapidly into her tight but lubricated sheath, burying itself to the hilt each and every time he plunged into her. Being a vampire allowed him to hit her fast _and _hard, his full length thrusting up to completely fill her with every push of his cock.

He hammered into her without abandon. In. Out. In. Out. The movement mesmerized him. She seemed to be equally as entranced as his hips continued to piston in and out of her, her eyes dark with pleasure and her rosy lips, swollen from his bruising kisses, parted ever so slightly.

Elena felt her orgasm approaching fast. She sucked in a breath and moaned. When her walls started to flutter more quickly around him, he pulled her upper body forward with gentle pressure on her back, forcing her ass to be pushed up into the air. She gasped, marveling at how such a small movement could change the angle completely. He continued to sink his length into her core, and she groaned as the pleasure-pain gripped her abdomen, her womb throbbing at the onslaught. She wasn't going to last much longer.

As if he sensed her looming climax, he shifted his hands, still holding her hips, inward toward her aching center and stretched one thumb over to press down on her clit. She nearly screamed at the sensation. When his thumb began to rapidly brush over the sensitive bundle of nerves, moving with vampire speed at the same pace of his hips, she couldn't hold back the moans that came from deep within her throat in rapid succession. She didn't have the presence of mind to be embarrassed at the unrestrained lustful noises she made – she just let them loose, closing her eyes and savoring the feelings coursing through her body.

Unable to hold back any longer, she screamed as her body shuddered, shaking apart above him. The pain was intense, but the pleasure spreading throughout her body – from the tips of her toes to the ends of her fingers to the top of her head – was overriding whatever discomfort she felt. The aching, throbbing sensation in her womb only served to enhance the all over tingling of her body. Intense heat travelled from her core, creating a flush across her thighs, up her quivering stomach and across her heaving chest, up to her throat and reddening cheeks. Her whole body was on fire.

When she trembled uncontrollably beneath him, boneless, he pulled out of her, once again resisting the urge to come inside of her or to drink from the swan-like column of her throat. Her blood, pulsating through her jugular, called to him. His fangs extended before he regained control and pulled them back.

Taking only a moment to look at her heaving chest and dazed expression, he wasted no time before flipping her over onto her back (dirt be damned – he didn't care if she got dirty and scratched from the floor of the cavern) and scooting down to settle his face between her legs, her thighs clutched tightly in his hands. Paying no heed to her cries of objection, he dove in and lapped at the liquid between her thighs.

_Now_ she truly knew what he'd meant by pain. Her body's nerves felt like they had been electrocuted as his tongue swiped roughly against her clit before he moved it down to lick along her slit. She felt him hum against her core at her taste. He continued to gather all of the juices from her orgasm before he suddenly shoved his tongue into her core.

She cried out when his tongue teased the inside of her cunt, and she genuinely screamed when one of his hands shifted so that he could press a finger firmly, _painfully,_ against her throbbing, swollen bud. She tried to push him away but to no avail; her small hands on his shoulders had absolutely no effect on him. Daringly, not even entertaining the thought that he might hurt her in response, she dug her nails harshly into his lower back and scratched up the expanse of his back, creating deep furrows that only bled for a moment before healing, his skin good as new. He grunted and paused for a moment, as if surprised, but then she felt him smile against her center and renewed his efforts with gusto, this time switching to suck her clit into his mouth and plunging two fingers rapidly into her cunt. With a deft twist of his wrist – _god _this man had skills – he proceeded to shove three long fingers into her, stretching her impossibly.

Tears leaked from her eyes and she sobbed as his mouth sucked harder on her swollen clit, the little bud engorged with the blood that had rushed to her center. His fingers pumped, unforgiving, in and out of her with a force that had her weeping. Now the pain had slightly overtaken the pleasure; her throbbing nerve endings were killing her. Suddenly his tongue turned to swipe across her inner thigh and then he angled his head and bit into the flesh there. The long pulls he took of her blood caused her to be light headed, and the pain was brutal, but her body shook with desire (how was this possible?), heat pooling once again between her legs.

Her body was going to explode.

Without warning he withdrew his fangs. He quickly flipped her onto her side, sat up on his knees, lifted her top leg onto his shoulder, and sunk into her with bruising force. He gave her a split second to adjust to the position – likely one she had never experienced before, judging by the shock on her face – but soon started moving inside her, his pace relatively moderate compared to the one he had subjected her to earlier.

She sighed in relief as the pain started to lessen, his strokes slightly shallower than they had been every time they'd fucked before. The ache was still there, but it gave her womb a chance to recover; plus, the new wound on her right thigh still hurt like the dickens, stinging. Blood leaked from the puncture wounds, running down her leg to pool on the ground. The feeling sickened her slightly.

Elijah was immensely pleased with her flexibility. She wasn't struggling at all to keep her leg stretched across his shoulder. The view of her pressed into the hard ground on her side, her hair fanned out behind her, legs spread wide for him, her blood trickling down her leg, and the dazed expression on her face…he resisted the urge to pant at the sight. Already he was breathing hard, even though he didn't need to. That was how much she affected him.

It terrified him.

When her head turned and her eyes looked up to meet him, he wanted to laugh at her glare, which quickly glazed over with desire when he gave a particularly hard thrust, and then transitioned back to the angry, passionate gaze he decided he was very fond of. He smirked at her, reveling in her fury and pain, and sped up, pushing her leg higher to accommodate more of his shaft.

For a moment he felt bad about causing her pain – but then he remembered that she had been in on a plan to have him killed. Sympathy was replaced with a newfound rage that warred with his desire.

She moaned. He wasn't sure whether her pain was worse than her pleasure or vice versa. He didn't really care – she would find her release either way. He glared back at her, sure that his lust was obvious in his eyes.

When he began to thrust more enthusiastically, she moaned his name. "Elijah," she whispered.

"Hmm?" he replied, once again enjoying the rage on her face. She was struggling to keep the desire at bay, indignant enough to try to resist the orgasm that was fast approaching. It was cute. Fruitless, he knew; he knew what he was doing, knew how to ensure a woman's pleasure. She didn't stand a chance against his practiced expertise.

"Elijah," she said, more firmly this time. "Elijah, you have to stop," she demanded, unsuccessful at keeping the breathiness from her voice. He gave a hard thrust and she squealed. "I can't take it," she sobbed, her head thrashing. Thrust. He earned another gasp. Thrust. Deeper this time. Her eyes squeezed shut and she groaned, sobbing in earnest now. Thrust. She propped herself up on her elbow, her pebbled nipples tantalizing him. Unable to resist, he brought a hand down to flick across her left nipple, and chuckled as a moan escaped her lips.

"Elijah!"

She couldn't take it. Squirming in his grasp, her body tingling more and more as he squeezed her breasts and plunged into her pussy faster and harder, she screamed in pleasure as she came, her orgasm washing over her. She came long and hard, her pussy clenching around his cock, still thrusting into her relentlessly.

The slap of skin on skin and the sounds of her continuous moans and whines had his climax quickly seizing his body. He continued to thrust into her at a steady pace as his orgasm burst through him, roaring, his balls tightening and his seed emptying into her core. His thrusts became slower, shallower, and he grabbed her wrist, bringing it to his mouth and gently sinking his fangs into her, moaning at her taste. He only took five deep pulls from her wrist before retracting his fangs and letting his eyes fade back to their normal brown.

He let his dick slip out of her, heard her whimper at the sensation. She was shaking uncontrollably, and, letting her leg fall from his shoulder, he caressed her tenderly, moving his hands gently over her body, from her ankles to the backs of her knees to her waists and breasts, skimming over her shoulders and up her neck to brush the backs of his fingers over her tear stained cheek.

He gingerly lay down next to her, on his back but with his head turned to the side to face her. Her face was confused, still contorted with pain, and her hands trembled uncontrollably. Reaching over, he took one of her hands in his, running his thumb over her knuckles.

She flinched at the initial contact, jolting her out of her reverie, the far away look in her eyes fading into awareness.

Earlier he had expected her to run away from him, to rage at him for his initial taking of her body. She had surprised him then. Not expecting the same luck a second time after all of the abuse he'd put her through, he waited for the impending storm of her fury.

She surprised him again as her face slackened, her eyes softening with a look that he couldn't quite place. He was shocked and baffled as she moved, albeit wincing in pain, over to his side, pressing her body into his, hooking a leg (the one that wasn't bloody and sore) over his and laying her head in the crook of his shoulder. His confusion must have showed on his face, because she giggled.

She fucking _giggled._

Sensing his discomfort, she laid a hand on his stomach, gently tracing his well-defined abs with her fingertips. His muscles quivered under her touch.

"I'm not mad at you, Elijah," she said in her maddeningly gentle, caring voice.

He bent his head forward slightly to look at her. His eyes were unreadable, bordering on cold. She swallowed, suddenly nervous that he would throw her off of him, dress and leave. His hand stroke her hair absently, easing her fears a little, but his eyes remained neutral and stared up at the ceiling, a small frown on his face.

She wanted so badly to speak, but something told her to wait. To take the pressure off of him she looked away from his face, turning her head back into his chest. She would be patient. She could feel his eyes boring into the back of her head.

Elijah's frown deepened and his brow furrowed as he looked down at her once again, studying the hair on the crown of her head and what little of her profile he could see with her head turned away. He could tell her eyes were closed. He expected her heart to be thumping in her chest and for her body to be tense, but when he listened, her heart beat steadily, and when he studied her body, it seemed to be completely relaxed, leaning into him as her hand continued to trace those maddening little patterns across his abdomen. Her torso rose and fell with each deep, slow breath she took. When she remained silent, not pushing him, he was even more confused.

"How are you so calm?" he asked quietly, his voice hoarse.

She looked up at him again, staring into his eyes. He struggled to stare back. Her eyes were bottomless pools of topaz; they had lightened up after their completion, almost a deep golden color, clear and content. Her eyes glistened, but not with tears.

"What good would that do?" she asked, her voice gentle. "You hurt me, yes," she said, giving a little shrug-like movement of the shoulders.

He cringed. Her voice sounded nonchalant, but he could detect the trace of lingering fear and pain in her words. Before he could shift away and apologize, she spoke again.

"But you gave me something far more valuable." When he tensed but didn't speak, she lifted her upper body up, twisting to look down at him. "You taught me something," she said softly, her calm eyes holding his questioning gaze. He was sure that if she were so inclined she could have an entire conversation with her eyes alone. "You challenged me…in a way I've never been challenged before. You took me like I needed to be taken," her eyes flashed with something dark and sinful. "You've made me see things differently. Nothing will ever be the same after this. You've made me question everything I am, or thought I was. You introduced me to facets of myself that I never knew existed."

Her words were pure, honest, filled with feeling. A piece of hair fell from behind her ear, and without thinking he raised a hand to tuck it back. She gave him a small smile. That simple quirk of the lips and brightening of the eyes had his (unneeded) breath shortening and his heart's slow, dead pounding coming back alive in his chest.

"And," she continued on, "most importantly, you showed me part of _you;_ revealed a side of you that I'd never thought I'd see – a side I'm willing to guess very few people have seen." She paused, bringing her hand up to touch his cheek, ghosting her fingers across his temple to curl around his ear before bringing it back down to its original position on his chest. The heat of her palm, resting flat against his sternum, seemed to burn through the skin and bone to wrap itself around his heart. Part of him wanted to rip her away, run back home, try to erase her from his brain completely – wanted to return to his cool, dangerous, unfeeling persona, uncaring about anyone but his family and himself.

The other part, the unfamiliar warm feeling that spread throughout his body as he looked at her, never wanted to move from this spot.

Sensing his turmoil, she spoke again, sure not to let her gaze flicker away from his. If someone were to look away, it would not be her. "Thank you…" she said tenderly, "…thank you for showing me that. You shared yourself with me – let me in, even if just for a moment. I'm honored. You made me feel things I'd never felt before. You made me feel special, despite your original intentions of punishing me." She paused for a beat, her eyes boring into hers. "You saw me, just me, Elena. Not just a doppelganger, a copy of someone else. You are the only person in the history of my life to be completely honest with me, that has let me – even encouraged me – to think for myself; and you have always dealt with me directly, treating me like your equal, even if I know I'm not. For the first time in a long time, I felt like an individual.

"I felt like myself."

Elijah had no defense against the onslaught of emotion pouring from her eyes and mouth. The forgiveness and understanding, the utter _kindness_ in her eyes humbled him; the wisdom and honor in her words, delivered so tenderly, made him want to weep.

She had stripped him of everything. The adoration and acceptance in her steady gaze tore down his defenses; his jaw went slack, the coldness in his eyes dissipated, leaving a tumult of raw feelings in its wake. It made his head pound, spots of light dancing before his eyes… It made his heart clench almost painfully inside of his chest.

Lost, he did the only he could at that moment.

"I don't know what to do anymore, Elena."

Once again she trailed her soft, delicate hand down his face, stopping at his mouth and gently swiping her thumb over his bottom lip, her eyes tracing the movement. Once again, the action took him by surprise.

Her eyes flicked back up to meet his soulful brown gaze. The pain she saw there made her heart ache for him. She felt responsibility for putting him at such a crossroads, for the war waging within his heart and mind. She said the most honest thing she could think of.

"Do what you want to do, Elijah."

He scoffed at her words, looking up at the ceiling, but stroked her hair absentmindedly. "It's not that easy."

She abruptly smiled at him, a full smile with lips and teeth and crinkled eyes dancing with mirth. He realized suddenly that he had never seen her smile like that – a true, sunny smile – since he'd made her acquaintance so many months ago. He'd seen a shy smile, even a smirk every now and then, but mostly worry, accompanied with a frown, a furrowed brow and melancholy eyes. Looking at her now, as she was, was like a breath of fresh air. He determined that this was the expression that she should be wearing all of the time; he realized he would do almost anything to make it so. It suited her, instantly transforming her face into the most stunning work of art he'd ever had the privilege to behold; the purity of her beauty could never be rivaled by anything. The only thing he could possibly compare it to was the vivid light green of the trees unique to the crispness of spring, or the loveliness of the first daffodil blooms pushing up through the earth year after year; akin to the splendor of fields of wildflowers, their faces turned up to the sun; or the freshness of the dew-covered grass, glistening wetly in the morning light. She was like a clear summer sunrise in the mountains, her smile like the first rays of sun, dazzling with its brilliant colors. She was all of these things, but with so much more vibrancy, so full of _life._

She spoke, beaming at him. "But it _is_ that easy," she said brightly. He wondered at the certainty in her voice, marveling at the confidence with which she spoke. "Sometimes all it takes is realizing it. You simply think about the times in your life when you've been at your happiest, when you've felt at your most fulfilled – and you start there. Do the things _you_ want to do. Do the things that give you a purpose in life; give back to the people you love, while maintaining a healthy sense of selfishness that allows you to be content." She paused here, stroking his face in a way that had him unconsciously turning his face into her palm.

"How are you always so hopeful when things only ever seem to go wrong for you?" he asked hoarsely. "Why do you continue to have faith in people who only ever seem to let you down?" He closed his eyes, thinking of himself.

"I realized, after my parents died, that I had to stop living in the past," she responded, her voice wistful and her eyes staring into something far away; something that only she could see. "You live day by day. If you feel, act. If you want something, take it." Her voice regained its resolve, looking back down at him. "People will always disappoint you, Elijah," she said. The smile she gave him was sad. "Always. But forgiveness is our greatest gift. Every human, every vampire, witch, werewolf…or _hybrid,"_ she said definitively, her eyes hard and resolute as she thought about Klaus, "has a soul. It's what sets us apart. And it allows us to show others grace, mercy. Forgiveness has no limits unless you form them within your own mind." Her eyes lit up. "And there is no better feeling in the world – _nothing – _than seeing your positive influence pay off. Even if it takes years of hard work, of boundless enthusiasm and an immeasurable amount of amnesty," she continued passionately, "it is _always_ worth it. To see the light inside a person come to life…it's gratifying, overwhelming even.

"I believe that that kind of love – not the romantic kind or familial kind, but the kind of love you can share with the world, the kind of attitude that can influence people for the better – is truly the greatest force on Earth. No amount of darkness can extinguish that sort of hope: the hope and faith in people, and the world, and _yourself._ I will work hard all of my life to never let go of that." She smiled grimly. "No one will take that away from me. No matter what trials I must face."

He stared up at her in awe; amazed and astonished at the words she had spoken. It was several minutes before he replied, and he was even more entranced by her comfortable silence, content to wait patiently as he tried to find the words to say, fingers once again tracing patterns across his torso, her other elbow resting on the ground, her hand supporting her head as she stared at his chest.

When he didn't find the right words to say – too lost in his own jumbled thoughts, unable to make heads nor tails of the information and feelings pinging around in his brain – she leaned up to brush her lips across his before pulling back to look him in the eye. "Don't over-think it, Elijah," she said, her tone soft and her eyes kind. The tenderness that shined forth from her bright eyes made all of his thoughts seize. He had come to only one conclusion and one only – it was the only one that mattered. The rest of the turmoil in his mind could wait.

He was in love with her.

Before he let the idea – no, the _realization – _scare him, he allowed the words to escape. They surged effortlessly from his chest through his windpipe and from between his lips, and, strangely enough, he did not regret them.

"I love you, Elena."

She gave him that sunny smile again: the one he wanted to see every moment of every day for the rest of his immortal existence. She said nothing, just leaned up to press her lips firmly against his, kissing him with every pent up emotion that had just been itching to escape. His lips opened beneath hers and their tongues and lips tangled with each other, their eyes closed, while her free hand entwined her fingers with his, holding on for dear life. His other hand moved to bury itself in her thick waterfall of hair, angling her head for better access to her hot mouth.

He couldn't help but speculate as to what else she could do with that mouth.

His dirty thoughts getting the better of him, his cock becoming almost completely erect within the span of a couple of minutes, he pulled away from her, reluctant to remove his lips from hers. She had, subsequently, become his addiction. He craved her more than he craved blood; his bloodlust shrank into nothing in the shadow of his lust for her. His _love_ for her.

Love. Not just love: love for a _woman._ A _human_ woman, he mused, stroking her hair and gazing into her eyes intently.

"How have you done this to me, Elena?" he asked her, his voice almost a whisper, soft as satin; the sound of him speaking gave her goose bumps. "How have you managed to tie my dead heart into knots so effortlessly?"

"I don't know," she sighed, pleased with his words. She brought his hand up to her chest to press against her sternum. He felt her heartbeat, faster now with renewed desire, but still steady as a drum against his palm. "You've managed to accomplish the same thing with mine," she replied shyly, flushing at his heated gaze.

"I'm not in love with you, Elijah," she said, and he couldn't help but feel his heart fall to the pit of his stomach. She leaned down to brush her lips against his ear. "But I will be," she whispered.

Elijah sat up abruptly, forcing her upper body up as well, her chest resting against his. He looked deep into her eyes. The love and reverence in his gaze made her heart clench and speed up, thumping loudly in her chest.

"I will wait for you," he whispered against her lips, his eyes never breaking away from hers. "As long as it takes. If you choose to live out your human years, I will stay by your side until your last breath." Her breath hitched, tears brimming in her eyes but not falling. "This I promise you, lovely Elena."

She kissed him again, languidly, until his hands gripped her buttocks and lifted her up completely to straddle his thighs. He lay back on the ground as his hands ran up and down her body, touching, squeezing, caressing, until a pretty shade of pink flushed her chest and face and her hips instinctively rocked back and forth against his hips.

She gasped as her inner thigh – still tender from his bite – brushed his fully hard erection. "That was…quick," she said, raising an eyebrow and smirking at him before leaning forward to bring her lips next to his ear. His dead heart beat wildly with anticipation.

Wrapping a small hand around his engorged length, she shuddered as a long, drawn out moan poured shamelessly from his throat. One hand rested on her already bruised hip while the other clutched the ground next to him, his fingers digging into the dirt.

"Well, Mr. Mikaelson," she breathed sexily in his ear, "if you truly love me as you say you do, and intend to make me love you back," she squeezed her hand around his cock, "I'm going to need further convincing."

Smelling her arousal, knowing she was ready for him, he flipped her over, pressing her into the damp stone, before working his way into her impossibly tight sheath. They both gasped as he reached the hilt, spots dancing in front of their vision, as he pulled out of her slowly before pushing his way back in equally as slowly.

He panted against her neck, biting down on the untouched side of her neck with blunt teeth to stifle a moan. "Elena," he murmured, barely able to restrain himself as he slightly picked up his pace, making sure his thrusts were still slow and deep. "You're so tight," he breathed into her hair, kissing down her neck to lave at her collarbone. "I'll never get enough of you."

Her head clunked back onto the ground when he began to shove into her at a faster pace, her orgasm building with each sure thrust of his hips. He sat up slightly, holding himself up with one well-muscled arm, and pulled her legs to wrap around him, her heels digging into his ass. She whimpered under the onslaught of his body slamming against hers, his cock disappearing into her wet heat slowly and deeply. Her fingers began scratching down his chest of their own accord and he growled in response, a low rumbling in his chest that shot straight to her groin.

Her hands pushed and pulled at his shoulders, her movements erratic, as she began to keen. He maintained his languorous pace, keeping his thrusts steady and deep within her, making sure he hit her in just the right way. When he saw her eyes cloud over, he knew it was time.

He would make her go blind.

He brought his hand to her clit, vibrating his finger over it quickly, keeping the pressure light. She wailed underneath him, her hips bucking, and he found his release inside her warm pliant body, the feeling of his hot essence spurting deep inside her center causing her own climax to slam into her, sending waves of pleasure crashing through her body, rendering her senses useless. Her body quaked as she came down from her high, and she pulled him down to her, his forehead resting on hers as they both recovered.

Suddenly she laughed, a quick bark of amusement, a grin spreading across her face. He pulled his head back to look at her, concerned.

Her eyes twinkled, gleaming wickedly. "I'm thinking I could get used to this," she said gleefully.

Leaning down he nipped at her lip teasingly. "I'm thinking," he said sensually, "you don't have a choice."

"Is that so?" she responded, her eyebrows raised.

"Mmm," he replied, humming deep in his chest. That sound always made her toes curl and her skin tingle. She loved his voice. "Do you know why that is?"

"No – but I'm sure you're going to tell me." Her nails ghosted across his back, her arms settling around him as he sunk down to let the length of his body rest along hers, her body holding his weight comfortably. He pressed his nose between her breasts, inhaling, before resting his chin against her sternum.

"Because you're mine. Even if you don't know it yet," he replied. His brown orbs locked with hers, his gaze bordering on severe. The intensity of his face, so unbelievably attractive, made a random thought pop into her head. She blurted it out without thinking.

"If you were human, we would have had _beautiful_ children."

His quick laugh was genuine and _perfect,_ his grin exposing his sharp canines (now that she had tested them, she knew exactly what they felt like). The smile reached his eyes this time, and she knew, though she couldn't bring herself to admit it yet, that she was absolutely and utterly lost. The light she had detected within him over the course of their relationship made itself known, apparent and clear to see in his twinkling eyes. She could almost feel her heart lift out of her body and float away.

She looked up at the ceiling, a ghost of a smile quirking at the corners of her lips. She ran a hand over his hair and he sighed contently against her chest.

"I'm yours," she whispered, smiling. "I like the sound of that."

He returned her soft smile. "It goes both ways, you know. You are mine, and I am yours."

She hummed in approval. "Well, I suppose you did what you set out to do," she said matter-of-factly.

"Did I?" he responded mischievously, his eyes gleaming as he pressed a kiss against her breastbone.

"You did," she replied. "I doubt I'll be able to walk right for at least a week," she began, "and you have thoroughly ravished me in every way, successfully ruining me for any other man."

He tried and failed to hide the smug smirk on his face. She fake-scowled at him, making him chuckle. "So no more Salvatores, then?" he asked. His voice appeared normal, but beneath it she sensed the tenseness in his throat. A muscle in his jaw ticked.

"Stefan will always be my first love," she mused, absently stroking his hair, soothing him. "And Damon…well, Damon will always be Damon. I will always care for him in my own special way." She sighed, looking down at him, her face relaxed and neutral. Talking about them didn't seem to upset her like he'd anticipated it would. Her heartbeat remained steady and slow. "But how am I supposed to go back to them after this?" she asked rhetorically. "You make me feel…I don't know," she said, frustration entering her voice. "I've _never_ felt the way around them that I feel around you. And not just the sex," she added, "but just being with you, talking to you. I love it when you tell me about your past; there are so many stories there, so much information, just waiting to be heard." He could hear her excitement at the prospect of learning more about his life. It made his heart swell. "And I like talking to you. I feel like you are listening to me. Truly hearing what I have to say." She chuckled. "It makes me feel more interesting than I actually am."

He propped his head up on his arm and made sure to meet her eyes when he spoke. "You _are_ interesting. I mean that," he said quickly before she could protest. "Look at me."

She looked at him reluctantly, the disbelief flashing in her eyes.

"Elena," he said, his voice dripping with honesty, his eyes never leaving hers, "you are one of the most remarkable human beings I have ever met. You are truly unique. You possess a profound wisdom beyond your years – you are far wiser than I. Listening to you talk – the way you speak with such passion; it awakens emotions in me that I thought long dead. You make me think. Tonight alone, you have turned my brain inside out, not to mention my heart." He smiled at her gently. "I think you seriously underestimate your own intelligence. You _negotiated _with me – twice – while most would be quaking in fear in my presence. I have to admit, that was a first for me," he said, chuckling at her tenacious nature, the memory amusing him. "You are able to think about things in a different light, with a depth of thought that even the oldest of souls rarely achieve. And yet, despite your analytical mind, you have an irrepressible optimism that refuses to be pushed down; along with an annoying selfless nature and what I'm starting to believe is a martyr complex. Tendencies that tend to get you into trouble," he growled, narrowing his eyes. She blushed and looked at him sheepishly, not knowing whether to feel flattered or chastised. He continued, his voice softening. "Despite the losses you've suffered time and time again, you never break; you remain unyielding in the face of tragedy and heartbreak. All of these things, combined with your endless capacity to love and your purity of soul," he finished, caressing her face with his hand, "make you the most beautiful person I have ever had the pleasure of knowing."

"Thank you," she said, shocked to her core by the things he'd said. "I've always felt that you understood me better than anyone else, from the get go. You seem to have the wonderful capability to make me feel special. You're a kind man, Elijah."

"No I'm not," he said immediately, his voice flat. Her brow furrowed, and he shrugged. "I'm not," he insisted. "But I am honest. To a fault." He gave her a tight smile. "I will never lie to you, Elena; about anything. Even if I want to protect you from the harshness of the truth." He brushed her hair away from her face, cupping her neck, her pulse thundering against the heel of his palm. "I know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that you can handle it. You're strong that way."

The smile she sent him could have made anyone's heart bleed. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye and he kissed it away. Her hands came up to bury themselves in the thick hair at the nape of his neck, pulling his head away. She looked at him in wonderment.

"I've changed my mind."

The words got his attention. He shifted, uncomfortable under her stare. What did she mean?

"I'm pretty sure I just felt my heart literally leap through my chest, because I no longer seem to have any control over it," she whispered. "I love you back, Elijah Mikaelson. I almost hate myself for falling so fast," she continued in a soft voice, "but I can't bring myself to believe that this is wrong when it feels so _right."_ She paused, swallowing, her eyes staring resolutely at his chin. He could sense her nervousness. "How cliché is that? I suddenly feel like a silly little girl."

He looked at her in awe before leaning down to kiss her forehead, his lips lingering for a beat. "You aren't a silly little girl," he replied, kissing her nose before pulling back to look into her eyes. He grinned. "And that was _extremely _cliché." He chuckled as she smacked him on the arm.

"I'm glad that you love me back," he said. "It makes me feel like less of a lovesick fool." She giggled. He delighted in the sound, vowing to make her do it more often. He supposed he'd have to get his sense of humor back; it was a little rusty after years of seriousness and solitude. "Now I can personally discredit a commonly used quote," he mused.

"And what's that?" she asked, curious.

He grinned down at her. "I believe it is something like 'Flattery gets you nowhere.' I can now personally attest to the fact that flattery gets you _everywhere,"_ he said, his voice a low rumble. To make his point, he skimmed one calloused hand down her side, brushing her breast and hip as he went. Whatever indignant reply had formed on her lips was lost in her gasp.

He smirked in triumph. Her eyes darkened with desire and stared at him sinfully.

He had her. This beautiful creature, pure heart and all, belonged to him. He would make her smile every day, just to see the joy on her face and the light dancing in her eyes. He would cherish her and treat her with the utmost respect; because, against all odds, this one girl was the only person who had reached his heart.

She made him _better._ When he was with her, he became a man – a man, regardless of his vampire status – that saw himself in a better light, no longer a monstrosity. Her mere presence brought him a peace he'd not felt in centuries. Gone was the self-loathing; gone was the bitterness…she made all of these things fade away, effectively dispelling any negativity with her unbridled optimism.

He should have noticed it before this night; he had denied his feelings for months, pretending that they did not exist. He hated that he had wasted so much time that could have been spent with her by his side. Preferably naked, he thought with amusement, as he flicked his tongue over her nipple.

He didn't care. He had her now, and he was never letting her go.

Who could've known that all it took to have Elena Gilbert's heart was a good, hard fuck (or several) and some well-chosen words?

As he made love to her again, he smiled, his heart free of burden.

Flattery…

He shrugged mentally. Figured.

Flattery had gotten him everywhere – everywhere that he needed to be.


End file.
